


Brotherhood of the Y Chromosome, The

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe, Children, F/M, Family, Humor, Post Bartlett Administration, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-03
Updated: 2009-08-03
Packaged: 2019-05-15 19:03:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14796198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: "We tell each other everything. Well, most of the time. Sometimes she acts like I should just know things without her telling me.  I really like her, but sometimes I think I'll never really understand her."





	Brotherhood of the Y Chromosome, The

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

  
Author's notes: CJ/Danny, CJ/OMC, Danny/OFC; alternative universe, total fantasy (or is it?)

Adult -- explicit sexual discussion between characters

 

Spoilers through end of series; possible spoilers for \"Holding Hands on the Way Down\"

 

Not mine, never were, never will be, but they consume my soul

 

Feedback and criticism always welcomed  


* * *

**August 23, 2017; Pacific School of Religion, Berkeley, CA; early afternoon**

Paul Reeves picked up the phone on his desk.

“Paul? Colonel Muñoz is here.”

“Thanks, Terri. I’ll be right out.”

As Paul stood up, he wondered again why Frank wanted to meet with him in the office. Two days ago, Paul had received the email from Frank. The Air Force officer would be in Berkeley for the morning to meet with and have lunch with the ROTC detachment commander at the university; Frank wondered if Paul would have time to meet with him. No, Frank didn’t want to come to the house for dinner; he had to fly back to Santa Monica that evening and have dinner with Diana’s parents. And actually, Frank would prefer that CJ not know about this meeting until after the meeting occurred.

After checking his calendar, Paul had told Frank that he could indeed meet with him and that of course he would respect Frank’s confidence. Paul had given Frank directions to his office. After the call was ended, Paul reflected that of course he would want to be of whatever help he could to Frank. Frank and Diana had been very supportive of Paul’s role in CJ’s life after Danny’s death. Paul knew that Danny had been closer to Frank than most of the other men on the block in Santa Monica, perhaps as close as Danny had been to Josh Lyman; he wondered if Danny had confided to Frank, as he had to Josh, that he wanted CJ to marry Paul after Danny passed.

_"Of course I did. I told Hank and Steve,too. They were the two families we were closest to, the folks CJ would depend on the most, except for you. I stacked the deck for you as much as I could."_

Paul was also curious about what Frank might want to discuss. From what Paul had been able to observe, Frank and Diana had a strong, healthy, loving marriage. But then again, Paul had also thought that his brother Alex and Eve also had such a marriage and look what happened there. Hopefully, there was nothing wrong, health wise, with Frank, Diana, or any of the children. Hopefully, neither of the older kids, Carmen at nineteen or Steve at sixteen, were involved in a teen-aged pregnancy or other issue.

“Frank! Good to see you! Come on back; my office is right here.”

Closing the door, Paul offered Frank a seat and asked if the man wanted coffee or a soft drink. Frank commented about the flowers that were sitting in a large soft drink cup.

“No, I haven’t done anything wrong, at least so far today, at least as far as I know,” Paul laughed. “I just happened to see someone selling them on the street corner when I was out at lunch and decided to buy them.”

“Why is it that they appreciate the little five dollar bouquet bought for no reason more than the fifty dollar box of roses on Valentine’s Day, a birthday, or an anniversary?”

“The surprise, the fact that we didn’t have to do it, the fact that they don’t have a Y chromosome, the fact that it shows we care; I could go on and on. So. How may I help you, Frank?”

“It’s a little sensitive, and I felt it needed to be discussed man to man, face to face.

“Three nights ago, Carmen came to Diana and me to let us know about a conversation she had with Maggie earlier in the day. Maggie asked her if, and I quote, ‘I really have to suck on Paddy’s thingie when we grow up?’ Well, Carmen pressed her sister, and apparently, when Maggie and Paddy talked last week, Paddy told her, in fairly explicit terms, about several sexual activities, some of which were fairly, ah, outside the norm. Now we had given Maggie some general answers to her questions about where babies come from, but we hadn’t expected her to have this kind of detail about sexual activity so soon, and I can’t imagine you and CJ giving Paddy such knowledge at this age. Anyway, I thought you should know about it. I know that in this day and age, with so many things being talked about on television, commercials about impotence issues, even the political scandals on the nightly news, that kids learn things at an earlier age than we did, but if it were one of my boys at that age, I’d be concerned about where, how, and from whom he learned such things. Was it an adult or older boy that might have done more than just talk? So, since I had plans to be here - ”

“Well, CJ and I happen to know where, how, and from whom,” Paul sighed. “When we were over in Scotland, there were a bunch of Aisling’s and Brian’s second cousins, boys that were from one to four years older than Paddy. Most of what the kids did was typical boy stuff – teasing the girls, sneaking cigarettes and whiskey, skinny-dipping, playing practical jokes on anyone and everyone. But one of the twelve year-olds had some pretty earthy pictures and some salacious novels, including deSade’s ‘Justine’, that he shared with the others. Paddy went to Derrick, and the two of them came to me. Paddy had the same questions, the same concerns. I explained to him that the things he learned about were reserved to grownups, and even then only if he wanted to do them and if the girl wanted to do them. I also told him not to talk about them with his friends, so I’m surprised that he mentioned them to your daughter and I apologize for that.

“You know,” Paul continued, “when I realized that I had fallen in love all over again with CJ, I looked forward to helping her raise her children. I had also fallen in love with them and I figured that having raised Derrick and Deborah, my experience would be a great benefit to parenting Paddy and Caitlin. But things have changed so much in the past decade or so. Eight or ten years ago, when I was adjusting to losing Alicia, I assumed that by this time I would be spoiling grandchildren; now here I am trying to be father to a second family.”

“I understand that in a few months, you **will** be a grandfather,” Frank responded. “Although I hope that is something I won’t experience for at least four or five years, I congratulate you and wish you many happy times in spoiling him or her.”

“That’s the bitch of it. With Paddy, Caitlin, and especially Dansha more of an age to be cousins rather than an uncle and aunts, I won’t be able to spoil the grandkid and be the firm but fair father to the others. At least for now, Deborah’s baby and any future grandkids will have to depend on Joe, that's Alicia’s father, or their other grandparents, for the spoiling.”

For the next hour or so, the conversation drifted onto other subjects. Diana was beginning to go through peri-menopause and Paul offered insights from the last few years with CJ. Frank talked about explaining ads for erectile disfunction to one’s sons without sounding like a dirty old man and to one’s daughters without getting totally embarrassed.

After Frank left, Paul reflected that it was good to discuss being a good husband and father with another man and that as long as you knew exactly how much personal information to share (and not share), as long as you trusted the other man (or men) to not broadcast such information, it really wasn’t a violation of confidence. Paul had counseled many men over the years, to be sure, but having such a conversation on a peer to peer level was a luxury he did not often experience. This afternoon and the evening in Angus’ study were events to be cherished.

**Late afternoon**

This is another reason to buy your wife flowers for no apparent occasion, Paul thought to himself as he stood in the kitchen, one hand in CJ’s hair and the other stroking down from waist to backside. Said wife, upon being given the bouquet “just because I love you”, had wrapped her arms around his neck and thoroughly kissed him. Then CJ moved her arms to his waist, rested her head on his shoulder, her lips on his Adam’s apple, and slightly lifted her body so that her crotch was nestled against his.

As the two of them stood there, Paul remembered CJ telling him, in those two months before their marriage, that one of the things that caused her to fall in love with him way back when, was the fact that she felt safe and secure in his height and the breadth of his shoulders when he held her. What Paul now realized that what she drew from his larger presence, he drew from her steadfastness. When he held CJ like this, she was his anchor, his mooring post. Her love and her confidence in him gave him the inner strength to fulfill his vocation to God’s people, gave him the inner strength to fulfill his perceived role as husband and father, as head of family.

Paul had just begun to wonder if they could manage time to take care of his almost solid arousal when they were interrupted by the squealing voices of their daughters.

“Papa home!” Dansha ran up to him and clung to his right leg.

By the time Paul had knelt down to hug the no way at all “terrible two” year-old, Caitlin had reached him, so Paul extended his other arm to bring the little redhead into his embrace.

“Papa bought flowers! They’re so pretty, Mama. You’re lucky,” Caitlin said.

“They’re for all of his girls,” CJ said, throwing a smile to her husband. Taking two of the carnations from the bunch, she tucked one behind the ear of each of the little girls. They ran to the bathroom, eager to look at themselves with their flowers.

CJ glanced at Paul’s groin and then grinned at her husband. Returning the smile, Paul felt himself start to soften. As usual, the promise of later sex, more convenient sex, passed unspoken between them.

“Paddy?” Paul asked as CJ handed him a glass of iced tea.

“Amy asked if he could come over and visit. Poor Billy is so uncomfortable with his cast; he needs to stay in the air conditioning. I was waiting for you to come home, so I could go get him. We’re out of barbeque sauce for the ribs.”

“Let me do it,” Paul said. “Is there anything else we need?”

“Are you sure you don’t mind? You’ve been at work all day and I haven’t.”

“But you were at work all day yesterday,” Paul reminded CJ. As the new academic year approached, both of them had administrative details to handle, but they wanted the kids, especially Paddy, to have a parent with them for the rest of the summer rather than be shuffled to daycare. “Besides, I’m sure that you have some unnecessary last minute worries about being ready for your nephew and his family.” Nelson Cregg, younger brother of Hogan, was attending a conference in Palo Alto. After the meeting ended tomorrow morning, he would be stopping by for a few days, along with his wife Sylvia and their six year-old son, named for his grandfather Mitch.

“Well, then, I appreciate it. Let me make a short list,” CJ said. “You’re the best.”

“I know,” Paul joked, then ducked as CJ threw the piece of paper at him. In truth, it was a blessing; it would give him a chance to talk with Paddy about the things the boy had told Maggie Muñoz.

Walking to his car, Paul checked the list. In addition to barbeque sauce, they needed lemons, limes, and oranges, some paper towels, and a bottle of cranberry juice (Caitlin was having urinary tract issues.) Nothing perishable, so Paul decided to shop first.

After leaving the grocery, Paul headed for the Marshall house, where he pleasantly turned down the offer of a beer from Will, obligingly signed Billy’s cast, and claimed his stepson. But instead of heading directly home, he drove to the park a few blocks from the house, and told Paddy they would be taking a walk.

When the two of them reached an unoccupied swing set, Paul claimed one of the swings and told Paddy that the two of them needed to talk.

“A serious discussion? What did I do wrong, Papa?”

“Well, it is kind of serious, but you didn’t do anything wrong, maybe just a little unwise,” Paul told the boy. “Remember when we talked about what you learned in Scotland?” Paddy’s face grew slightly troubled as he nodded his head and Paul reflected, as he did on that afternoon several weeks ago, that while he was the consummate non-violent person, he would love to wring the neck of Colm MacDonald and his dirty little twelve year-old mind. “Didn’t I tell you not to mention those things to your friends? Well, your uncle Frank says that you told Maggie about them.”

“I thought you meant the other boys at school," Paddy explained. “ Maggie’s more than a friend; she’s my girlfriend. I don’t keep **anything** from her, **ever**. Well, except what I’m buying for her birthday or for Christmas. We share, like you and Mama. We sometimes talk about what we’ll do when we’re grown up and get married. You said that when I’m grown up I might like some of those things, so I wanted to know what she thought about them.”

Paul sighed. He didn’t want to encourage the possibility of a mature relationship, in a decade or so, between the two eight year-olds, but he knew that even at their age, emotional feelings were real and needed to be treated with delicacy.

“What did she say when you told her?”

“Well, she said that she didn’t know if she wanted me to stick my tongue in her pee-pee; her vagina,” Paddy quickly corrected when Paul gave him a look, “so it didn’t matter if I still felt it was icky when we were bigger. She did say that sometimes she liked to tickle herself there and if I wanted to do it to her when we were big and married, she would probably like it too.”

Paul decided to let that pass for the moment. “Well, apparently, the thought that you might want her to do some of the things to you bothers her, because she asked her sister about it and Carmen talked to her mom and dad. Carmen told them that Maggie cried about some of it.

“Paddy, I don’t know whether or not you and Maggie will still want to get married to each other when you’re big enough, but whether it’s Maggie or someone you haven’t even met yet, a gentleman never wants to make his girlfriend or his wife feel uncomfortable. He never makes her do anything related to special touches that she doesn’t want to do. And he never wants to make her cry.”

“But why didn’t she tell me? I’d never want to make her cry or do something she didn’t like,” Paddy said. “Like I said, we tell each other everything. Well, most of the time. Sometimes she acts like I should just know things without her telling me. Papa, I really like Maggie, but sometimes I think I’ll never really understand her.”

As the little boy who looked so much like CJ gave Paul a perplexed look and shrugged, Paul tried mightily, but in the end, he just had to break out in a huge, full-throated laugh.

“Paddy, believe me, every guy, me with your Mama, Derrick and Natasha, your uncles, all the men since the beginning of time, feel exactly the same way. Come here,” Paul finished, stretching out his arms.

After the two of them exchanged a hug, Paddy pulled back.

“So, am I in trouble? Do I have to pay damages?” Paddy had been saving for the trip to the zoo tomorrow with his cousins and was concerned.

“Well, no, there’s nothing you have to do, Paddy, but there might be something you want to do. Remember last week, when Derrick and Natasha were here and they had a little fight?”

“Derrick bought her flowers, to let her know he was sorry. So, I should buy Maggie some flowers?”

“Only if you want to, but I think maybe you should. Buying a woman flowers makes her feel special. We could go to the florist tomorrow and have them call a store in Santa Monica and deliver some to Maggie.” Paul decided that if Paddy agreed to his suggestion, Paul would call the florist beforehand. Paul didn't want Paddy to spend more than ten or fifteen of his money, so Paul would arrange for the staff to show Paddy the least expensive floral arrangement available for online purchase, tell the lad that it was the price Paddy wnated to spend, and bill Paul for the difference and for the fees. AS he had told Paddy, this wasn't really a discplinary situation but more of a teaching moment.

“Well, if you think it’s a good idea; I know you have more experience, Papa,” Paddy said. “I guess I really don’t need a whole lot of things at the zoo.”

“Well, son, if you do send Maggie flowers, what you get in return will be a lot nicer than the souvenirs you’ll see tomorrow. Listen, let’s get home. Those ribs won’t grill themselves.”

As they walked back to the car, Paddy turned again to face his Papa.

“How come, whenever people cook outside, it’s always the man that does the cooking? Even Uncle Frank’s brother, Mr. Tonio, who’s a real chauv-nist, Aunt Diana says, and never helps out in the house, he cooks on the grill.”

“I don’t know, Paddy. It’s just something we men do.”

When they reached the house, Paddy greeted his mother with a quick kiss and went off to find Jasmine. Paul went outside to start the grill. Caitlin and Dansha asked for permission to go into the kiddie pool.

“In a few minutes, when I come back to start cooking,” Paul told them. The children knew that they were not allowed in the water, even the twelve inches in the small blowup pool, without an adult watching them.

CJ was putting away the paper towels on the bottom shelf of the pantry when Paul reentered the kitchen to get the ribs. Looking at her butt, thrust up in the air, Paul understood why many men were compelled to give their women gentle half slaps that ended in caresses on that part of the anatomy. For a second, he was tempted, for the first time in his adult life, to execute such a move.

But he didn’t follow through on the urge; like the creamy lace gown lying in a box on the top shelf in the back of their closet, that privilege belonged to Danny. A gentle sweeping up and down, a squeeze, yes; but he would no more give CJ a “love pat” than would CJ call him “Pauley”. Some things were reserved for first spouses and smacking CJ’s ass, no matter how softly and erotically, was one of them.

“ _Yes, it is,” Danny reiterated. “And speaking of thrust up backsides.” Alicia had dropped one of her pencils and had bent over to pick it up._

“ _Oh!” Alicia started at the sensation. There was a slight sharpness at the sound of the smack, but it was immediately replaced by a feeling of movement from back to front. When the feeling reached the central core of her, it throbbed and pushed against the folds that shielded it. For the first time, she had doubts about Paul’s feelings about the subject. And suddenly, she wanted to feel it again, and to somehow signal that desire to the man who reached down to get the pencil for her. As he handed the pencil to her, Danny smiled his smile. Alicia looked around. The kids, all five of them, were occupied. No one else was in the vicinity. She smiled back._

_The two of them began to move in circles around each other. And walls began to hide the two of them from view._

Paul could not react with his hand; his lips would have to suffice.

“Sweetheart, I’ve always loved your fanny; it’s perfect.”

About an hour later, Paul was tending to the ribs on the grill and giving Paddy his first lessons in that manly art.

“It’s very important that you keep the heat low. Ribs are best when brought along slowly.” It’s the same for a woman, Paul thought to himself. But I think I’ll save that lesson for a few more years. You’ve already been exposed to too much too early.

“Why are you spraying them, Papa?” Paddy asked as Paul spritzed the meat.

“It’s vinegar. It helps to seal the outside and to keep the juices inside, to keep the meat moist as it cooks.”

“What about the sauce?” came the next question.

“Sauce usually goes on at the very end, right before the ribs are done. Especially if there’s any sugar or syrup in the sauce. Sugar burns when it is heated.

“Now this sauce is pretty good, but I put other stuff in it. Some bourbon, some Dijon mustard, some horseradish, and some white wine vinegar. That makes it almost as good as Grandpa Joe’s sauce.”

“Why don’t you just make his sauce? It’s real good,” Paddy asked.

“Because he won’t give me the recipe. It has to be passed down to men with Dawson blood in them. Grandpa Joe has it in his will, to give it to Derrick and to Derrick’s cousin Kirk. That’s the way Grandpa got it from his father. And they have to promise to keep the secret.”

“ _Damn straight,” Ezra Dawson muttered to no one in particular. Now where did Esther get to? Up here in heaven, everything was like it was when they were young and Ezra wanted to reenact one of those ED commercials._

“Paul?” CJ walked out of the house carrying the cordless landline. “It’s Derrick.”

“Hey, kid, what’s up?” Paul listened for a few seconds and then said “Oh, Jeez, that’s horrible!”

Apparently, Derrick talked for a few more minutes.

“Let me call you back. I need to see what I can work out.”

Disconnecting the call, Paul turned to CJ who was looking at him with some concern.

“Chet Milligan died earlier today, an innocent bystander in a bank robbery gone bad.” Paul stopped, overcome with grief for his old law school classmate, the man who had first hired Derrick for his firm and then had willingly let his son pursue his career with the Hollis Foundation.

“Anyway, the funeral is tomorrow; the family wants to keep the twenty-four hour tradition. Derrick is flying up with Frank Hollis and Jamie Cleveland. He knew I’d want to know, to try to make the funeral if I could.”

“You know,” CJ mused, “I always wondered why Chet kept the anglicized name for himself, or the firm, for that matter.”

“I guess out of tribute to everything his father and his uncle had to go through,” Paul answered. “Anyway, what do you think? Could you manage the zoo without me?” The plan had been for Paul, CJ, and the kids to cross over to the city and meet Nelson, Sylvia, and Mitchie at the zoo. CJ would then ride back with Nelson to navigate the way back to Kensington.

“I’m sure that the kids will behave, and we’ll be three adults for four kids. If we hadn’t made plans to meet them, if it was just us going to the zoo, I’d say cancel, find someone to watch the kids, and I’d go with you. Are you sure you don’t mind me driving over there by myself?”

“ _ **I** __do. But then, it’s not my call anymore, is it? However, I still worry.”_

Of course I don’t mind, I’m not as Neanderthal as Danny was, Paul said to himself. “Of course not, sweetheart. Do you want to take the van? Paddy is tall enough to sit in the front of your car, of course, so it’s just what you prefer.”

By the time Paul called Derrick to get more details and arrange to meet at the synagogue, the ribs were ready for sauce basting. Shortly after that, CJ brought out the potato salad and green beans that made up the rest of the meal and supper was served.

And shortly after that, the kids were in bed and CJ was able to thank Paul for her flowers in a much more enjoyable way than she was earlier in the day.

**August 24, 2017; home of the late Chet (Chaim) Milligan (Milstein); San Francisco; mid-afternoon**

“Have you tried the herring in wine sauce, Dad?” Derrick handed a plate to his father and took some of the pickled fish. “It’s excellent.”

Paul held out his plate and Derrick put a forkful of the herring on it. After taking some of the latkes and the kugel, they moved away from the table. Paul noticed that the pastries he had bought that morning from the kosher bakery on Telegraph Avenue (after calling one of his rabbi friends for advice) were almost gone.

Paul had met his son and his companions in front of the synagogue before the service and had driven them to the cemetery and now to the house where Chet’s family was sitting shiva. After paying their respects to Chet’s widow and the others, they had been told to help themselves to the fish and dairy buffet that had been set up in the dining room of the Nob Hill townhouse.

“Why don’t we go outside?” Paul suggested. The townhouse had a small but very nice walled in garden in the back.

“So are you and Mama ready for the new year? And Paddy?”

“CJ and I are as ready as we can be. Paddy, I think, is getting to the age where kids want summer to last forever. Although he does like his classes, especially creative writing. He may look like his mother, but he definitely has Danny’s way with words. And you, when you were here last week, you mentioned something about flying over to Kenya soon?”

“That fell through, at least for the immediate future. However, I can’t say I’m disappointed. I’d rather stick around town for now.”

Something in Derrick’s voice raised suspicions in Paul’s mind.

“And Natasha? Everything’s okay with her?”

The manner in which Derrick’s entire face lit up confirmed in Paul’s mind that sometime between the day that Derrick and Natasha left Kensington for Big Sur and last night, his son had finally won entry into the French professor’s body.

“Yes, it is.” Then, because it had been engrained in him since he was five to not lie to his father and because the man might be the best source of advice on the issue, “Well, except for, well, she doesn’t, not while - ” Derrick stopped, realizing that he was not finding the right words.

Paul sighed. It was more common than most people thought. And given Natasha’s history, even understandable. But first, he needed to make sure that Derrick was expending enough effort. The young man had been waiting for over eight months and maybe he was too impatient.

“Are you taking enough time, Derrick? Remember, some women need up to an hour of arousal activity. They also might need to be told exactly what it is they will be feeling when they climax. Some of these romance novels are rather way out there in their descriptions.”

“Before and after, she’s fine Dad.” As usual, Derrick knew that he could talk with his father about anything, “She knows what she wants. The first night I stayed at her place, she showed me the vibrator I was replacing. It’s just during that she can’t, unless I put my - ”. Why was he becoming tongue-tied again?

Paul looked around to ensure that no one else was within earshot before putting his son out of his misery.

“So, you are able to bring her to orgasm with your hand and with your mouth, but not with penile-clitoral contact and friction, except, again, with manual intervention. It may be a matter of finding the right angle, the right movements, the right position. You’re lucky, the two of you are still young and limber.” Paul remembered the time two months ago when he and CJ tried something rather exotic, but something they had done before. The resulting pinched nerve in his back caused an unusual interruption of three days in their activities.

Paul quickly did some math in his head. “If I can still count, it’s been at most a week. It may still be a matter of time. Persevere; don’t give up.”

Then Paul’s voice grew a bit more serious. “There is the possibility of something else. When that bastard was abusing her, she might have, in spite of herself, felt some involuntary pleasure from his invasion of her body and there may be some subconscious guilt over that. But bringing up that is something you would have to be extremely careful of doing. You may have broken through one barrier, but the two of you have much further to go, emotionally. But keep it in the back of your mind.

“And, in the end, there are sex therapists, if necessary. But I would see that as a last resort. I really think that time and practice will solve the issue for you.”

“Well, it’s a dirty job, but I guess I can manage,” Derrick said with a smile.

Frank Hollis came up to the two of them.

“Hey, Derrick, the limo is here to take us back to the airport.”

Father and son said their good-byes. Paul mentioned that he was considering coming down to San Luis Obispo for the October board meeting. Gina had offered to come down and stay with the kids anytime he wanted to go with CJ, but he had a conflict with the September meeting date. Derrick told his father that of course, both of them were welcome to stay with him whenever the occasion arose.

Paul called CJ’s mobile. The group at the zoo was having a great time, would probably be leaving in about two hours. The only problem was when Sylvia suggested that the kids play with the Shetland ponies; CJ had to take Caitlin somewhere else while Paddy and Dansha went with the others.

As he drove back across the bay, Paul reflected on the conversations of the past twenty-four hours. A woman, no matter her age, was a complicated and fascinating creature; he and his fellow men needed to pool all their knowledge in order to try to understand them, to live with them. Cooperation and sharing did not always come naturally to men; maybe it was the Y chromosome, the testosterone.

But women were worth it and Paul was glad that he had been able to share that knowledge, in age-appropriate language, with his sons and with the man was the father of his possible future daughter-in-law. What was the old saying of the women’s rights movement? Sisterhood is powerful. Well, so is brotherhood.


End file.
